Classic Poem

One peak, stripped sheer,
another peak circles round;
the shortcut twists and turns
along the emerald stream.
Inches away, the heavens open
just above the trees;
writhing, meandering, 10,000 gullies
rise from your eyebrows!
A flying bridge of natural stone
leads to misty light;
a man beneath a shoulder-pole
looks down from bird-paths.
We would explore the source of the stream,
the deepest spot of all,
but flowing cloud, so vast and vague,
hides the immortals' altar.